Struggle To Cope
by Jaspers-Girl-and-u-no-it
Summary: At the funeral, Bart had said to someone that everyone would have to struggle to cope. Whether by coincidence or not, he had glanced quickly at Blair, then back to the person to whom he was speaking. She didn’t want to cope, though. She only wanted Chuck.


"I'll see you soon," she promised him.

"Will you be naked?" he asked. She almost smiled as she could clearly see in her mind how the angle of his mouth would hold good humor while his eyes would twinkle mischievously.

"Ew, Chuck! Eat me!"

"Is that a promise?"

"Ugh!" she yelled, disconnecting the call instantly. It wasn't long before she became irritated with him once again. What was taking him so long? He needed to hurry so they would have time to think of a good way to overthrow little Jenny Humphrey, and thwart her social climbing efforts. With Serena dating Jenny's older brother, she wasn't much help when it came to making sure little J knew her place.

After pacing for nearly a half hour, she found herself filled to the brim with conflicting emotions. On one hand, she was angry enough at being stood up to burn his precious scarf. On the other hand, she felt the slightest bit of worry over his absence that she fought quickly to overcome. It wasn't like Chuck to pass up an opportunity to ruin someone's reputation, and even more unlike him to not call if he decided to cancel on her.

Discomfort and pain flooded her being as her stomach seemed to drop to her feet, and her heart shatter all at once. These new feelings were sudden, non-existent one moment and existent the next. Her sudden emotional shift frightened her, and she reached into her pocket for her cell phone just as it began ringing.

"Hello?" Her voice shook audibly, but judging by the sobbing coming through the phone, her rattled composure would surely be easy to miss.

"Oh my God, B," came Serena's panicked voice over the phone. "He's dead, he's dead!"

"Who?" she choked out, licking her dry lips fiercely. She knew whom, of course. It explained her sudden emotional unbalance moments before. Whether she liked it or not, she shared an undeniable link with the man that her best friend was referring to.

"It's Chuck." Blair nodded weakly, not really caring that Serena couldn't see her.

"Of course," she whispered, defeat heavy in her tone of voice. The roaring in her ears was deafening, and she let the phone drop from her grasp, not caring hat it now lay in pieces on the tiled floor. Mercifully, darkness began to overtake her vision, blocking out the picture of a smirking Chuck Bass from her mind as her heart and body ached in unison for the man she loved. Then she fell, and everything went dark.

* * *

Only a single week of sorrow that cut so deep it should have drawn blood later, and Blair was standing by her bed, facing away from the mirror as she sobbed brokenly. Having just come from burying the man whom she loved, she wasn't doing very well. She choked and hiccupped while her tears carried black eye make-up down her cheeks in sticky trails.

Moments after sliding out of her black, peep-toed Manolos, her knees buckled and she crumpled into a heap on the floor, shaking violently. Her emotions felt raw like a fresh cut, and only worsened each time she thought of _him_, which was all of the time recently. She dragged her reluctant body off the ground and into the bathroom Her face and body looked foreign, and way too thin.

From the moment she had found out about Chuck's death up until now, there had yet to be a thing to enter her hollow stomach that hadn't been immediately forced out with no exceptions. She had eaten a bit at the funeral to appease her worried mother and friends, and was now remembering what else had taken place at the funeral while she stuck her finger deep down into her throat.

Everything had been elaborate, fancy, but Blair never really noticed. She held a scotch in one hand, and was planning on getting very drunk solely on what had been Chuck's preferred alcoholic beverage. Unfortunately, she hadn't had enough time to get completely wasted, and was only experiencing a light buzz by the time the actual ceremony came around. She didn't hear what the minister was saying, his voice was only white noise as she stared towards the sealed casket. It had been decided by his father to have the casket sealed before the funeral, his body having been too mangled from the accident.

A taxi had hit his limo, but that hadn't injured him too badly, regardless of the fact that he wasn't buckled, as always. A pedestrian had paused in the middle of the street to gape at the accident, and was in the way of an oncoming car. Said car had swerved to avoid the pedestrian, and had flown at the limo, just as Chuck was getting out. He was sandwiched between the two cars. Dead on impact, and just like that my life might as well have ended.

When the time had come to say final goodbyes, Blair had found herself clinging for dear life to the wooden box that entombed her true love. It had taken several strong people to pry her weak body from him, and in the end she had managed to slip out and go home to mourn alone. The realization that she would never see Chuck's smirking face again or be allowed a final kiss was painful enough that Blair wished she were dead.

Struck by sudden inspiration, she stood up quickly and rushed to the medicine cabinet. Spying the Advil PM, she retrieved and opened it, pleased that it was over half full. At the funeral, Bart had said to someone that everyone would have to struggle to cope. Whether by coincidence or not, he had glanced quickly at Blair, then back to the person to whom he was speaking. She didn't want to cope, though. She only wanted Chuck.

"I love you," she finally said, her voice echoing in the vacant house. She was struck with a sudden wave of loneliness that one can only feel if either everyone except you has abandoned you, or the one you love more than life itself has died.

"I love you too," his soothing voice assured her. "Always have, always will." She didn't read much into the fact that his voice was speaking to her in her head, her sanity not really an issue at the moment. Soon, nothing would be an issue. That thought brought her as close to a smile as she had been in the past week, but still it wasn't enough to lift the corners of her mouth. Honestly, she wondered if she hadn't forgotten how to smile.

Forcefully, she swallowed every pill, chasing each one down with tap water she cupped in her hands, and went to lay on her bed and wait. Everything became distant and foggy within minutes, and her heartbeat began to slow. Instead of mind-numbing fear, sweet relief consumed her as the first things she hadn't forced herself to throw up all week killed her.

The pain she felt was minimal in comparison to the heartache she had experienced within the past week, and was easy to ignore as she focused on the memory of an angel. She knew she hadn't much time left, and she quickly spoke the words she needed most to say, even though no one was around to hear them but his memory.

"I'll see you soon," she breathed weakly.

"Is that a promise?" His voice was tender, and she finally smiled just a bit. She inhaled once, and finally answered the one question he had always asked the right way.

"Yes," she sighed gently. Her chocolate eyes glazed over then, unseeing as her last breath and heart went out simultaneously. Her soul had escaped her vacant body, and floated on that final promise she had made searching for it's other half, for it's home. Had anyone been in the house, they may have heard a love filled 'yes,' so faint they wondered if they had really heard it. But no one _was_ in the house, so the final promise of Blair Waldorf was only to be heard by one person. The one it was meant for.


End file.
